


Amongst The Thorns

by twistedrunes



Series: George [12]
Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Crying, Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Miscarriage, Other, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 19:09:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16980150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedrunes/pseuds/twistedrunes
Summary: “I can be friends with a woman,” Tommy says indignantly.“Name one.”“Mary.”“Employee, not friend. Old enough to be your mother; yet you still had naked morphine dreams about her.” You dismiss his claim.Tommy glares at you, nostrils flaring as he tries to stare you down “You.” He finally snaps.





	Amongst The Thorns

“Mr Solomons is downstairs. He has asked if he might see you, after his appointment with Mr Shelby.” Mary says, not bothering to hide her disapproval of you having gentleman callers to your bedroom. “I’ve told him the Doctor is here. He has said he will wait if necessary.”

“Yes, Mary. Thank you.” You nod as she pulls the door closed behind her.

“It’s looking excellent Anna, really it is.” Doctor Prendergast says, fixing the bandage around your middle in place.

“Well, it’s all down to you, Doctor.” You say truthfully as you tug your pyjama top down. You really liked Doctor Prendergast, he was an excellent doctor and a truly kind man. The fact that he was tall, with a beautiful physique, deep green eyes and soft, strong hands didn’t escape your attention. His accent was what nearly did you in though, a delicious melodic Irish lilt. You could have listened to him read a train timetable.

The good Doctor had served with Tommy in France. He had come immediately when Tommy had called and explained about the woman with the dirty wound, still bleeding some six weeks after her initial injury. Once you were in a fit state to understand he had explained very carefully to you, using his medical textbooks to show you the anatomy, what he had done in the surgery on the butchery table in the House kitchens to finally put you back together, and what the consequences of your injuries and poor treatment in hospital would be.

“I’m still amazed you survived for me to do anything.” He replies, pulling the covers up over your chest.

“Well, I’m stubborn that way.” You grin cheekily. “So how long do you think it will be before I can go home?” You ask hopefully.

“It will be a while yet.” He says patting your arm.

“Outside? Downstairs?” You ask a little desperately. Truth be told you were starting to get a little stir-crazy being cooped up. According to the Doctor, you were making amazing progress to be standing and walking, well shuffling really, so soon. But you were keen to get back on your own two feet, both literally and figuratively.

“Once you can do two trips of the hallway without needing to stop, we’ll start with the stairs.”

“Thank you.”

“But I’m warning you, stairs will be tricky you’ve lost a lot of strength in your abdomen. So there’ll be lots of trips down two steps and up two before we can chance attempting a whole flight.” He pats your hand kindly.

“Okay.” You replied already making plans for more trips around your room to build up your strength.

As if reading you mind the Doctor grips your hand “Don’t overdo it.” He instructs sternly.

 

“Knock, knock, its Alfie love, you decent?” You had heard Alfie well before he had reached your door, telling Mary he could show himself to your room, so his announcement was unnecessary.

“Just a minute Alfie.” You call in reply.

Doctor Prendergast smiles at you and squeezes your hand gently before opening the door for Alfie. “I’ll see you tomorrow Anna,” he says before nodding cordially at Alfie as they pass each other.

“Bye Doctor.” You say to his departing figure.

As soon as the door closes, Alfie lowers himself carefully on the edge of the bed, pressing his lips to the top of your head on the way down. His hand travels over your hair to your jaw, before his thumb traces along it tenderly. “Fuck if you aren’t looking much better than when I last saw ya.” You look at him puzzled. “I came to see ya in the hospital. Yeah?”

“Oh. Sorry, no one told me. Well, they might have. I don’t remember much, well anything really.” You offer by way of apology.

“Yeah, well it was late see, visiting hours were over right?”

“Thank you.” You squeeze his hand gently. You can’t help but smile at Alfie’s disregard of rules which don’t suit him.

Alfie holds onto your hand, his eyes searching your face “I overheard some nurses talking, saying ya lost a baby.” He says so softly you can barely hear him, but the look on his face tells you all you need to know.

You exhale, filled with relief. You had been unable to think of how to tell him. You reach out and rub your hand over his cheek “I didn’t know,” you begin the words catching in your throat. Alfie shuffles around, so he is sitting with his back against the headboard, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “The doctor only told me yesterday.” You say quietly.

“It was mine?” Alfie asks quietly.

“Yes.” You nod.

Alfie nods. You feel the anger surge through him as he pulls you in closer to him. He mutters under his breath. You don’t understand a word but you can physically feel their intent. You pull back slightly, fearful of his anger. He pulls you back, again kissing the top of your head “I’m not angry at you, love.” He tells you adamantly. “The fuckers that hurt you though,” He shakes his head, another assortment of curses flowing from his tongue. “But why didn’t ya tell me? I would’ve looked after you.” He says, lifting his hand to your face, raising your chin so he’s looking into your face.

“I didn’t know.” You say. Alfie looks at you eyebrows furrowed.  You sit back further, watching his face as you try to explain, “I mean, I knew I was late, but, but I think I convinced myself it wasn’t possible.” You shrug helplessly “I didn’t want a baby.” You admit.

He nods, brushing a loose hair from your temple and tucking it behind your ear. His face is unusually soft as he chews at his bottom lip. His rough hand caressing your shoulder.

His tenderness and the relief that he understood caught you off guard. “It hurts Alfie.” You cry crumbling against him, your hands grasping at the fabric of his shirt, balling it in your hands. Alfie wraps you in his arms.

“How is it you can miss something you never had? That you didn’t think you wanted?” You sob, burying yourself in Alfie’s chest. Unable to hold back the emotions that had been threatening to consume you since Doctor Prendergast has told you that you had been pregnant and that you had lost the baby because of your injuries. That you would never have another chance. You weep, wrapped in Alfie’s strength and calmness.  You have no idea how long you remain embracing each other but Alfie doesn’t move until your breathing settles and you are no longer clinging desperately to him. You look up at his face noticing his eyes are shiny and red-rimmed too. You reach up and brush under his eye with your thumb, caressing his cheek in your palm. He pulls you against him again and rests his cheek against the top of your head.

Your eyes close again “I’m so sorry Alfie.” You whisper.

“Hey, this isn’t your fault, love. Right?” Alfie pulls away a little so he can see your face. Then he pulls you back into him, the two of you holding each other, without speaking for a long time.

“It’s probably for the best.” You say weakly, breaking the silence. “I’m not exactly mother material.” You bite your lip to stop its tremble. Unable to put into words your fear of what kind of child you would have borne; conceived in the shadow of your darkest hours, of a union between two Godless souls.

“Fuck no,” Alfie says firmly, pulling his arm out from around you and taking your face in his hands. He looks at you sternly. “Don’t be saying that. You’ll make a wonderful mum, right.”

You smile and take his hands from your face, holding them between you. Noticing the golden light flowing through the window. “It’s getting late. You’d best be getting home, Alfie.” You say.

Alfie frowns, eyes flitting over your face. “I can stay.” He offers. Your eyes flick to the floor and your eyebrow flits up unconsciously. “Tommy be damned,” Alfie grumbles.

You laugh. “Tommy or no. You don’t need to stay.”

Alfie watches you, fingers entwining with yours “You can come with me,” he offers.

You smile, untangling your fingers. “Alfie,” you begin.

Alfie nods and presses his hands into his thighs moving towards the edge of the bed. “I would have looked after you.” He says.

You place your hand on his shoulder “I know Alfie.” You wait for him to face you. “And I care about you. But we were just having fun, and don’t get me wrong it was great.” You both smile at each other in acknowledgement. Alfie unconsciously running the tip of his tongue over his lips. “But we don’t love each other. Let’s not make a mistake, trying to fix something we can’t change, hey?”

Alfie nods ruefully standing. “I would have loved our baby.” He says, bending back down and holding his hand to your cheek and pressing his forehead above your ear, his voice barely a whisper.

“I know Alfie. Me too.”

\------------------

Anna!” You hear Charlie call as he runs to your room. It had become a morning ritual during your stay at Arrow House. Mary and Charlie bringing you breakfast and Charlie staying to play with you while Mary got some of her chores done.

“Good morning Charlie.” You say as he scrambles up onto the bed. “Good morning Mary.” You greet her as she puts your toast and tea on the side table. “Are you okay?” You ask noticing the dark circles under her eyes.

“Of course Miss.” She says dismissively. “Will you be needing anything else?” She asks.

“No, thank you, Mary.”

Mary leaves, and Charlie waves goodbye to her. He chatters to you happily, playing with his car on your bedcovers. You eat your breakfast enjoying the company.

“Let’s go for a walk hey Charlie?” You say putting your teacup back on the bedside table.

Charlie nods and slides down off the bed, toddling towards the door. “Wait for me, Charlie.” You say easing yourself up with the help of the furniture. He stops in the doorway, waiting for you to reach him, holding his hand up for you to take. You take his hand, enjoying the feel of his little hand in yours. You make your way slowly down the hall using the wall for support.

You meet Doctor Prendergast at the top of the stairs. Glancing down you notice Tommy disappearing down the hallway to his office. You had actually wondered if he had been here during your stay, having not seen or heard him the entire time you’ve been here. “Good morning Anna. Good morning Charlie.” The doctor greets you, ruffling Charlie’s hair. “Excellent to see you up and about.” He says to you.

“Morning Doctor. Just stretching my legs.” You say looking wistfully at the stairs.

“Alright then.” The doctor says “Down two and up two.”

“Really?” You ask almost overjoyed.

“Yep.” The Doctor puts his bag down and turns to Charlie “Charlie. I need you to help me count okay?” Charlie nods sincerely as the doctor takes his hand and moves him to the other side of the staircase. You position yourself at the top of the stairs, your hand on the bannister. The doctor joins you, “I want you to step down with your right foot and then the left. Only one step at a time” he demonstrates. He steps down, two steps below you, turning and taking your free hand in his. “Ready?” He says.

“Yes.” You say, eyes level with his your heart skips a beat. 

“Charlie are you ready?” The doctor looks across at Charlie, who nods happily. “Okay. One,” the doctor draws out the word. You wince as your muscles are pulled down as your foot reaches out. Once your foot is firmly on the tread you reach out with your left foot. You breathe deeply, your jaw setting as you feel the muscles in your abdomen screaming. You smile hearing Charlie clapping at your achievement and looking across to see he was copying you; hand on the bannister stretched above his head and standing on the same step as you.

“You okay for the next one?” The doctor asks. 

You nod repeating the process, biting your tongue to distract you from the pain. You find yourself with your nose nearly pressed into the doctor’s chest. You take a deep breath, pleased for the distraction. 

“Excellent.” The doctor compliments you. You notice Charlie has again followed your lead and is standing on the same step.

You turn yourself around and grip the bannister again, bracing yourself for the pain. Doctor Prendergast steps up beside you, one hand resting lightly in the small of your back, the other holding your free hand. You lift your left foot, barely able to raise it to the level of the top of the stair. Using the bannister you pull your other foot up to the step. You can feel the sweat beading on your brow and your legs start to shake. You drag yourself up to the final step.

“Well done,” the doctor compliments you. You nod breathing hard. “You’re doing really well” he assures you seeing the frustration in your eyes. “It’s just going to take time.” You say nothing just rolling your eyes and shuffling your way back towards the bedroom.

\---------------

“Tommy?” You ask waking to find him sitting in the armchair next to the window in your room. You can barely see him in the dark but his face is illuminated by the flare of his cigarette as he draws the smoke into his lungs. You hadn’t seen him since the morning you saw him in the hall. You haven’t spoken since the night of his party.

“Go back to sleep.” he orders. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” He says as an afterthought.

“Pardon?”

“Go back to sleep.” He repeats himself, turning his head to look out the window.

You push yourself up with your good arm “I think that will be difficult with you sitting there.”

“Fuck.” Tommy sighs wearily. He stands and lifts the chair from the floor and begins to carry it towards the door.

“Tommy, what are you doing?”

“If you can’t sleep with me in here, I’ll go out into the hall.”

You shake your head, beginning to wonder if you’ve suffered some sort of permanent brain damage. Tommy puts the chair down to open the door. “Tommy, stop.”

He stops, hand resting on the back of the chair “I’m going. So go back to sleep.”

“Has something happened? Are we in some kind of danger?” You ask, unable to mask the anxiety in your voice. Thinking that a threat is the only reason why Tommy would be sitting next to your window in the middle of the night.

“No.” He shakes his head in irritation “You’re perfectly safe.”

You take a deep breath “So why are you here? I haven’t seen you since” you pause trying to decide on the words, you notice Tommy stiffen “your birthday.” You conclude.

Tommy moves back to the window, hands shoved in his pockets, back straight, looking out over the lawns “I didn’t think you’d want to see me.” He says simply.

“Why?”

“Because of what happened.”

You rub your hand over your face “So you’ve come into my room in the middle of the night to, watch me?”

“No,” Tommy replies. You say nothing completely confused by what’s going on. Tommy stands like a sentinel at the window. “Mary fell asleep today giving Charlie his bath.” He says faintly.

“Fuck! Is Charlie okay? Mary?”

“They’re fine. Mary’s just sleep deprived.” Tommy explains. Your heart caught in your chest knowing how devastated Mary would feel thinking she had put Charlie in any danger or that she had let Tommy down. Tommy turns to look at you “Apparently, you have terrible nightmares. She’s been getting up during the night. She didn’t tell me until today when I found her asleep leaning on the edge of the bath.”

“Fuck. I’m sorry.” You say weakly. “You didn’t fire her did you?” You demand as soon as the thought pops into your head.

“No,” Tommy says impatiently, leaning against the window sill. “But I told her I would look after you tonight and because I haven’t heard you from my room, I came here.”

“I’m sorry.” You repeat, not sure of what else to say.

“Polly tells me you used to get them before,” he pauses for a moment before carrying on “but that they weren’t as bad as now.” He tells you.

“Yeah.” You reply, ashamed that the others had known. “They were worst with the morphine.”

“I know,” Tommy replies. You shake your head dismissing his misguided empathy. “Mine too.” He insists. You turn the bedside lamp on wanting to see his face. You both blink as your eyes adjust. Tommy leans against the bedside table. “What do you dream about?” He asks.

“Victor, George, my Mum.” You press your fingers to your closed eyelids. “You?” you ask without looking up.

Tommy stands again and returns to the window “Tunnelling, Grace, my Mum.” He runs his thumb along the frame of the window. “Although, when I was on the morphine, I dreamt Mary was standing next to my bed reading passages from the bible,” he looks back at you “naked.” He says shaking his head as he turns away again.

You snort at the unexpected nature of his revelation “Really?”

Tommy nods and you see a flicker of a smile in the corner of his mouth.  

“Wow.” You shake your head trying to prevent any images from embedding themselves. “Why don’t you sit down?” You offer.

“Are you sure?” Tommy hesitates.

“It’s your house, Tommy.” You reply testily.

Tommy crosses back to the chair “If you don’t want me here, I’ll go outside.”

“Tommy, why do you think I don’t want you here?”

“Because of what happened.” He says tersely keeping the chair between you.

“It’s not your fault I got hurt.”

Tommy takes a deep breath and blinks slowly before fixing you in his gaze again. “No, but I scared you, in my office.” He says

“You did.” You reply making sure to hold his eye.

“You scared me too,” Tommy admits unexpectedly. His head rolling back as he looks to the ceiling.

“Your reputation would suggest otherwise.” You say, your voice harder than you intended.

“So would yours.” Tommy shoots back. Then closing his eyes he holds up his hand as if trying to stop your usual decent into antagonism of each other. “You were someone I didn’t know, in my office, in my house. With my family, my son, next door. Not weeks after someone managed to kidnap me from the middle of Small Heath.” He explains, his knuckles are white, fingers gripping the back of the chair.

“I thought you were going to rape me.” You say voice wavering slightly.

“I didn’t know it was you.”  

You shrug “What would you have done if it wasn’t me? If I had been a spy or a whore?”

Tommy shrugs, leaning against the closed door. “The whore I would have fucked. The spy I would have shot.”

“Well, at least that’s the truth.”

“I should have come after you.”

You shake your head, “Finn tells me the horses are fine.” You say dismissing his comment.

“Yes. I suppose he told you what happened to the men who hurt you too?” He says annoyed.

“No. That was Arthur and John. Although I think it was mostly to keep me in bed.” You say only half joking.

Tommy nods and pulls a cigarette from his case, lighting it before speaking, smoke wrapping around his words “Speaking of Finn, I think my little brother’s sweet on you.”

You roll your eyes “Fuck Tommy, you may well be a clever industrialist and a fucking criminal mastermind but when it comes to emotions you’re a fucking dimwit.”

“What? He’s always round here. He was the one who made us go get you from the asylum. He visited you every day at the hospital. I thought he was going to shoot Doctor Brown.”

“He and I are friends.” You say stressing every word, particularly the last, breaking it down into syllables. “We just understand each other. That’s it. He’s in love with Daisy.” You say exasperatedly. “See, this is why it was a good thing you weren’t there during Finn’s formative years. Unlike you, he doesn’t need to fuck every woman he meets.  He can actually be friends with a woman.”

“I can be friends with a woman,” Tommy says indignantly.

“Name one.”

“Mary.”

“Employee, not friend. Old enough to be your mother; yet you still had naked morphine dreams about her.” You dismiss his claim.

Tommy glares at you, nostrils flaring as he tries to stare you down “You.” He finally snaps.

“Ha! We’re not friends Tommy. A woman isn’t your friend just because you haven’t fucked her. This is the most we’ve said to each other since I met you. Plus I’ve effectively been a man the whole time, and the one time you met me as a woman you thought I was a whore and tried to fuck me.”

“I would have killed you if you were a spy,” Tommy says in exasperation, the look in his eye betraying the thought that perhaps he would have been better off if that had of been the outcome.

“So great friends then.” You scoff.

Tommy says nothing, opens the door, picks up the chair, and goes outside. Closing the door after him without a word.

“Good night Tommy,” You say loudly to the closed door.

 

You wake, sobbing. Held tightly as you wailed, being gently rocked. “Shush, shush, just a dream.” Calming words finally reaching your ears.

It had been a George dream. They were the worst. You always woke feeling like you had been put through a mangle. Since your arrival at Arrow House, your George dreams had changed. Before, your dreams would start with the two of you, happy, just together content in each other’s company. Then he would just vanish. You would search and search for him, but you wouldn’t find him. He would just be gone. Before, you would wake up crying at the injustice that he was gone, mourning the life you would have had together.  

Now, you see him in the street in Camden Town. Tall and strong in his uniform, a child held in his arms. All around you, couples would be finding each other, hugging and kissing and holding each other. You would run to him, calling his name, arms held wide, desperate to hold him again. He would push you away when you drew close, forcing you to the ground. Turning himself so the child was hidden, protected from you.  Then looking down on you he would say “Stay away from us.” Before walking away, quickly becoming lost in the crowd.

A hand is stroking your hair, while arms hold you tightly. You can feel calm beginning to nibble away at the edges of your panic. You register something is new, different about tonight, but your brain is still too flighty to process the information to find out what. You concentrate on your breathing like Doctor Prendergast had taught you.

“That’s right, deep breaths.” You realise with a start that the voice is Tommy’s, not Mary’s. He pulls you closer “It’s okay. It’s just a dream.” You breathe deeply through your nose, smokiness washing over you. Feeling calm begin to penetrate your brain. His chin rests on the top of your head as he holds you to his chest. You can hear his heart pounding, betraying the calmness of his voice.

Your breath begins to come more easily and you pull back from Tommy “I’m alright.” You manage to say.

“Are you sure?” Tommy asks, his voice unusually gentle. You tip your head back to look up at his face. The moonlight making his eyes even paler and highlighting the angles of his face. His thumb brushes a tear from your cheek.

You rub your hands over your face, trying to remove all evidence of your crying. “I’m sorry,” you manage to say.

“Don’t be.” His hand rubs over your back. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” You shake your head and pull away, your hands pressing against his chest. “You should go and try to get some sleep. I don’t usually get back to sleep after a dream so, go back to your room. I won’t wake Mary up.”

Tommy slides off the edge of the bed, watching you closely.

You turn away uncomfortable under his gaze. As always you feel he can see the parts of you, you don’t want anyone, let alone Tommy Shelby to see. You feel Tommy move away and slip out the door. You look up as it closes. “Thank you.” You say too late to be heard.


End file.
